Trying to Change
by mollymop-6031
Summary: Missing Scene from S3. Neal tries to convince Scott to turn himself into Peter and get a good deal and gets conned by the kid who escapes, leaving Neal to explain why Neal's merry band of thieves pulled a break-in behind the FBI's back. Peter understands why Neal thought he could talk the kid around but isn't pleased about his CI's behaviour. Warning: contains spanking.


Synopsis until now: Neal and Peter are trying to catch Scott, a young con artist who Peter has said shows the same level of talent Neal did as a young man. At first Neal was sceptical, but now he's taken pity on the kid and taken him back to his apartment to hide, eventually agreeing to help him return a diamond bodice from a rich New Yorker Scott stole it from with the help of Mozzie and Sara in the hopes he can convince him to turn himself in… All is going well until Peter a) catches Neal out and b) Scott escapes when Neal turns around, leaving Neal frustrated.

Neal slid his hands into his pockets as he walked away from Sara and raised an eyebrow at the kid. "So, what are you gonna do now?" he asked casually.

Scott eyed him for a moment before shrugging with a scoff. "Oh, come on. You didn't really think I was gonna turn myself in, did you?"

"I was hoping you would," Neal admitted patiently, mind already trying to find a way to change the kid's mind.

"Would you have when you were my age?" Scott countered hotly.

Neal smirked, shaking his head slightly. "No, I wouldn't have. But this isn't about me. It's about Peter Burke. He's the smartest man I've ever known. He caught me, and he will catch you. The only question is when. Nobody's that good. He is, Scott. If you turn yourself in now, he'll make you a deal. It's the best deal you're ever gonna get." Neal paused as he realised that Scott didn't believe him and decided to try a different track. "You know what? Keep running. Always looking over your shoulder, never slowing down long enough to share your life with anyone. Because you know that the second you do, that is when he will catch you. Let me help you, Scott."

At that moment, they saw the side door to Carlisle's office open before he was led out in cuffs by Jones. Peter followed Jones, Carlisle and another agent out, speaking to the agent as he went. He noticed Neal and crossed the short distance to where his CI stood observing him, frowning in confusion. "Where's Scott?"

Neal's eyes went wide as he processed the question that stood between them like the elephant in the room. He spun on his heel in disbelief, dropping his head in defeat as he realised that he'd been conned by the kid he'd put his neck out to help. Even worse, he knew he'd once again let Peter down in the process.

Neal appeared at Peter's office door looking anxious. "Any sign of Scott?"

Peter shook his head with a tired sigh. "Nothing. He's gone completely to ground."

"I screwed up," the younger man admitted softly, guilt clear in his features.

"Yes, you did," Peter agreed honestly. "But you helped get Carlisle off the streets. That's a good win." He offered his troublesome CI a reassuring smile.

Neal grimaced, looking to the FBI agent earnestly. "I actually thought I was getting through to him," he commented looking frustrated. He kept playing it through in his head and just couldn't work out where he'd gone wrong.

"Disappointing, isn't it?" Peter answered knowingly. His hazel eyes were full of compassion for this misguided younger man that had become so important to him.

"Mm."

Peter picked up his coffee mug, glancing at it. "You think they're listening and they go off and do the opposite of what you say." He looked up at Neal meaningfully before shrugging.

"Now he could be anywhere."

Peter nodded. "He really could." He looked past Neal in surprise before breaking into a smile. "But he's not."

The older man pushed back from his desk and stood cheerfully, leading the way out of his office with Neal following brightly. They met Jones at the top of the stairs to the bullpen, Scott in cuffs beside the agent.

"He said he'd only turn himself into you," Clinton explained.

"So…" Scott started. "This is the guy who caught you?" The young con looked Peter up and down sceptically.

Neal grinned with his usual boyish charm. "Believe it or not…"

Peter smiled proudly. "Glad you're here. Still have the pieces you stole?"

"Depends. Which pieces you know about?"

Peter looked to Neal in amusement, chuckling when the younger man shrugged and grinned with a gun. He turned back to the kid. "The more you cooperate, the better the deal I can get you. You're gonna have to serve some time."

Scott swallowed nervously and nodded. "I know."

Neal watched them a moment before patting Peter's arm. "Can, I, um…"

"Of course." Peter left them alone.

The conman stepped closer. "So, what made you decide to come in?"

"Because stealing stupid stuff from rich people was already getting boring," the teen told him with a shrug, smiling. "Or what you said got to me. Whichever makes you feel better. Thanks for the help."

Neal shook his hand with a smile. "Anytime."

Peter appeared in the doorway, rubbing his forehead. "Jones, could you cuff him again?"

Neal patted the kid's shoulder and watched him go. When he felt Peter beside him he spoke. "Give him some time. People don't change overnight."

Peter smiled. "Believe me, I know. I work with living proof of it." He squeezed Neal's shoulder. "But they do change."

Neal was just thinking maybe he wasn't in trouble when the older man spoke again. "This turned out well, buddy. But you still went behind my back. We'll talk about this later."

The criminal turned informant sighed softly but nodded. He was surprised to realise he almost felt relieved. Amidst everything, Peter being consistent was an anchor to the younger man. It was the only real anchor he'd had in a long time, and though he'd never admit it he relished how predictable his boss and mentor was. "Yours or mine?"

"Yours. Otherwise, El and Satchmo will bench press me into letting you have one of those cheesecakes of here that you're obsessed with." That got him the smile he'd hoped it would. "We'll be alright."

With that, he set off for the stairs, returning Neal's easy banter about him not being the Sheriff of Nottingham by comparing himself to Richard the Courageous.

Neal tried not to feel nervous as Peter drove him home. Outwardly, he appeared calm. Well, other than the way his leg bounced ever so slightly. He was grateful that his handler didn't comment, even though he had no doubt the older man must have noticed by now.

They pulled up at June's and Neal got out first, leading the way upstairs. He really hoped Mozzie hadn't let himself in for once. Generally, he preferred this happening at Peter's because his longtime friend didn't just barge in there. It was something Neal was working on with Moz, just like Peter was working to reform him.

When they arrived upstairs, Neal let out a sigh of relief at seeing the coast clear. He heard a chuckle behind him and turned to pull a face at the agent behind him. "You really wanted to explain to him how you handle things whenever you catch me red-handed?" he asked with brows raised.

Peter's lips quirked as he shook his head. "Not particularly. Although, I wonder if that would reform the little guy some. The conspiracy theory he'd offer up would likely be amongst the best I've heard. No, I think we'll settle for locking the door."

Neal huffed out a laugh. "Actually, I got one better. Last time he walked in on Sarah and me, he told me to put a sock on the door handle if it wasn't safe to come in in future. I'd rather do this with Sarah but…" the conman shrugged. "Gotta use the tools you have available…"

Peter nodded and stepped into the room, letting Neal do his thing. When the younger man moved closer, looking nervous, Peter sighed. "Neal… I want to make something clear before we go any further. What you did for Scott… Well, your heart was in the right place. I'm proud of you. Sure, you went about it all wrong, and we'll address that in a moment, but I'm proud of you for helping the kid out like that."

Neal broke into a genuine smile. "I met a guy who went out on a limb for me and gave me a chance to turn my life around."

Peter's return smile was amused, his chocolate eyes warm. "Must be a pretty good guy."

"The best," Neal agreed. "I wouldn't be the man I am today without him."

Peter nodded as the weight of that admission settled. "I am very proud of the man I see you becoming. You're a good man, Neal Caffrey." The agent turned serious. "That said. You did go behind my back. Again." He leaned back against the dining table and gave his CI an appraising look.

Neal winced and reached up to unfasten his tie and loosen his collar, rolling up his sleeves. "I know. I should've told you I had a plan, even if I couldn't tell you all the details of the plan. Plausible deniability," he added when Burke frowned in disapproval. "C'mon, Peter. You'd never had okayed that plan…"

"With good reason. You put all of you in danger. Neal, you put Sara in danger literally less than a day after I told you not to lead her astray." the older man sighed and stood, pacing the room for a moment. "Your heart was in the right place today. I get it. I do. But we're partners. You should have told me what you were thinking. If I hadn't come to Carlisle's office when I did, you guys would all be in holding cells right now."

"I know, Peter. I know," Neal assured him.

"It was a big risk. If that kid had been as stubborn as you were at his age? This plan wouldn't have worked."

"I know that too. But I had to try."  
Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. You know I can't let this slide though. Right?"

Neal gave a small nod, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He looked at the balcony longingly before forcing himself to relax and looking his handler in the eye. "Where…?"

Peter looked around the studio apartment. "One of these chairs will do. This one was personal."

Neal felt his face heat up but nodded. "Right. Uh, can I…?" He trailed off, beckoning to his slacks hopefully.

Peter pursed his lips thoughtfully as he ditched his suit jacket on the back of the chair and took a seat, rolling up his shirt sleeves. "We've talked about you going behind my back before, Neal. They come down."

The conman pulled a face but nodded his understanding. He moved to stand in front of his role model a little nervously. No matter how often this happened, it didn't seem to get any less nerve-wracking. He steeled himself and unbuckled his belt then unfastened the sleek slacks and slid them down his slim hips. He didn't bother with the boxer briefs, figuring he'd let Peter handle that for him. It was hard enough not conning the older man whenever this happened, and doing this himself? That was a little too hard when he went over Peter's knee.

Peter waited him out patiently, nodding in approval when Neal bent over his lap. He decided to let him keep the boxer briefs for the moment. He was satisfied his partner knew why they were here and didn't waste time recapping again. Instead, the agent placed a steadying hand on Caffrey's back and brought his right palm down firmly. He landed another swat in the same place, then moved to another, taking a moment to find his rhythm. Then he increased his form a little and began to really warm the younger man up.

Neal sucked in a breath at those first swats. He forced himself to breathe, wishing he didn't need to use his palms to keep himself balanced in the position, his toes touching the floor on one side and his palms spread on the other. Something told him Peter had chosen this position deliberately. The older man always did think about things like this in detail. Before long, he was struggling to distract himself, feeling quite uncomfortable. "Mm, Peter… I had good intentions…"

"I know," Peter acknowledged. "You often do. But today, those intentions put four people in danger of being arrested. Not to mention the fact you went behind my back and took advantage of my trust again. I've warned you before that every time you do that, I'll do this. The sooner you learn that the sooner you get to stop pulling a con in work that says sitting down isn't seriously uncomfortable for you."

Neal pulled a face and huffed out a breath. "Not funny, Peter."

"I'm not laughing. I care about you, Caffrey. I enjoy working with you. I really don't want to have to arrest you again." Peter sighed and landed a few searing spanks to really drive that lesson home.

Neal grunted in pain. "Mmph… Got it. I swear, I'm trying to get better at coming to you and not going off the reservation!"

Peter sighed again. He stopped to tug Neal's fitted boxers down to mid-thigh. "Am I unreasonable about that? Do I refuse to let you run with ideas when you have them and we need to think outside the box?"

A jerky head shake greeted the question. "No. Look, Neal, I know you're used to doing things your way, but the world doesn't work that way. It isn't sustainable. We're partners and we need to be able to trust each other. I'm going to use my belt at the end of this. Today, I'll give you ten. Next time we have to repeat this lesson, I'll double it. You hear me?"

Neal's eyes widened nervously and he swallowed back a plea. "Peter, come on… I was just…"

"I know," the agent interrupted. "That's why it's only ten. I know you were trying to help that kid. I'm taking that into account."

With that, the spanking resumed and Neal had to swallow a groan. God, this hurt. He often forgot just how physically fit Peter was, but in this position, with that broad palm crashing down against his exposed buttocks? It all came rushing back to him. The con artist hung his head and regulated his breathing, forcing himself not to kick or throw a hand back.

For a while, the only sound was that of palm meeting tender flesh and soon the shadows in the room started to lengthen as dusk settled on. Peter kept going until Neal was squirming and his breathing had changed enough to be meaningful. When the younger man's hair was flopping down boyishly and his breathing was laboured with barely suppressed tears, Peter stopped and shook out his palm. "Alright, almost done. Hang in there, kid."

Neal made a weak sound of protest, shaking his head miserably. "Peter, I…"

"No dice. You do the crime, you do the time." He reached down to unbuckle his belt and slid it out of his own dress trousers before doubling it over in his hand. The leather was worn in from years wearing it on the job and he knew the supple leather would make quite the impression. The few times he'd used it on Neal before, it had straightened him out quite impressively. "Ten," he reminded.

Neal gave a shaky nod, fingers twitching as he tried to hold himself still. "Squirm if you need to, buddy. I can handle it."

Neal didn't respond, so Peter raised the belt and brought it down solidly. Neal gasped sharply then groaned. He really didn't do pain. He disliked pain almost as much as guns, but not quite.

By the time Peter had delivered five searing stripes, Neal's breathing was incredibly staccato and tears had spilt over. "P-Peter, I'm sorry…"

"I know. Nearly done." Peter worked methodically for all ten stripes, though he aimed the last four at his troublesome partner's sit spots and thighs. He hoped that feeling them tomorrow would really drive the lesson home for his con artist.

When the last stripe landed, he stopped. He held his belt down by his side and patted Neal's back with his left hand, comforting him silently while the younger man cried softly for a few moments. As the tears slowed to occasional sniffles, Peter carefully fixed Neal's boxers so the younger man knew he was free to get up whenever he was ready.

Neal stayed where he was for another minute before easing himself up and turning away to fix his slacks and make himself look more predictable.

Peter stood and stepped away, returning his belt to its loops and waiting until Neal was ready to speak to him. "Let's try and avoid this particular discussion again, hmm?"

Neal nodded, offering the older man a sheepish smile and blinking back fresh tears.

Peter's smile was warm and reassuring as he reached out to squeeze his boy's shoulder. He didn't often allow himself to think of Neal as the son or younger brother he'd never had, but moments like this when he saw the real Neal Caffrey, he couldn't help but feel protective. He blinked in surprise when Neal spoke up softly.

"Hey, Peter? You think El could manage an extra dinner tonight?"

It took a minute for the older man to pull himself together. "You just want to see me get into trouble with her, don't you?" he complained in amusement.

Neal shrugged, offering him a cheeky grin that was somewhat offset my the redness around his eyes.

Peter looked out at the balcony and the view of the sun setting behind the Chrysler and shook his head in amusement. "Go on, put something comfortable on. I want to tell her how proud I am of you for reforming a fellow miscreant," he teased.

Neal grinned and went to retrieve some casual clothes, opting for items that would hurt his smarting backside less. He reappeared a few minutes later looking more like the Caffrey Peter had grown accustomed too. "Good to go?"

Neal nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Hey, Butch?"

Peter laughed and shook his head as he opened the studio's door and removed the sock. "Mm?"

"You really think El's gonna be proud?" the younger man asked hopefully, looking like an excited puppy as he led the way downstairs once the door was locked and down to the Taurus.

Peter reached out to squeeze his shoulder before Neal slid into the passenger seat. "Oh, I know so, Sundance. I know so. Speaking of, give her a call, would you? She'll be even happier if she knows we have company for dinner. You might even have a glass of red waiting for you on arrival."

Neal's eyes lit up and he made the call while Peter pulled out into the New York traffic. The older man couldn't help but smile as he thought back on the events of the past twenty-four hours. It may not have happened overnight, and Peter had no doubt he had many more sleepless nights worrying about Neal ahead of him, but days like today made him confident that Neal Caffrey really could become the man Peter believed he could be.


End file.
